


A Dream for Right Now

by Muccamukk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Calm Before The Storm, Canon Era, Episode: s01e04 Replacements, Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-08 09:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk
Summary: A quiet moment on that first night in Holland.





	A Dream for Right Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Katana4544 (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/gifts).

> Written for Lady_Katana. I miss you.
> 
> Title from "Nights Like This" by The Shondes.

Bull glanced up from his project as Johnny scrambled down the bank to sit next to him with his back to the road. Below them, at least some of first platoon was digging in for their first night in Holland. Bull could feel Johnny next to him, but he couldn't see next to nothing in the darkness. They'd jumped on a new moon, and sunset had been an hour ago. Bull wanted to smoke, but he didn't want to drop into a foxhole just yet, and Winters was stomping around enforcing light discipline.

"I miss the French," Johnny said by way of hello.

"You hated the French," Bull answered. He was setting himself up, but he didn't mind listening to Johnny carp. He liked Johnny's voice and he could work to the rhythm of it. 

"That was before I met the Dutch," Johnny said. He bumped over so that his hip was resting against Bull's. The night was cool but not cold, and they didn't need to sit so close. Bull leaned in a little, enjoying the indulgence while it lasted. It was a quiet night with no real danger, and who knew how many of those they'd have. "You have any idea how many of our 'patrols' I just found in farmhouses eating?"

"Most of 'em?" Bull guessed. He hit a tricky flower stem and had to wheedle it higher up. He chewed the edge of his cigar as he focused.

"You got that right," Johnny said. "And I caught one of your killers in a haystack with a girl."

"He have his rifle with him?" Bull asked. He'd have to talk to his boys in the mornings, but he wasn't going around chasing them until it was his turn to check the patrols. That'd be more towards dawn.

"He did," Johnny admitted. "Didn't have his pants, but he had his rifle."

"Taught 'em something then," Bull said. He ran his fingers over the trail of flowers spread across his lap.

Johnny leaned over to see. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Picked some flowers on my last walk 'round," Bull said. He was joining the stems by feel now: the thin cornflowers through the delicate poppies, the heavy black-eyed Susans holding it all together. There was a little white flower that he didn't know the name of that shone out in the dark. He wove more of those in.

"Christ, I didn't think this place'd get to you so fast." There wasn't any heat in Johnny's tone, just the worn habit of complaint.

"Just enjoying it while it lasts," Bull said. "You gotta hold onto nights like these."

He expected Johnny to come back with something smart, but instead he sat quiet on the embankment and stared out into the dark. Bull pushed his thumbnail through another stem and worked a daisy through it. He thought about how he'd used to do this for his sister—the only thing he'd been able to afford to give her.

"Bull," Johnny whispered, making sure his voice wouldn't carry to the nearest boys.

"Yeah?" Bull stopped fussing with the flowers and tried to see Johnny's face, but the darkness hid him.

Bull heard the grass rustle under Johnny as he laid back against it, looking up at the few stars that were visible through the clouds. "That last night in Aldbourne, when Lip said we were gearing up again, did you look around at the boys and wonder which ones you'd see next time we had liberty?"

"Of course," Bull said. He'd looked around, and he'd known that the replacements he'd worked so hard to train would go first, but that some of the men he'd known all the way since Toccoa would go to, maybe even before their boots hit the ground. "Always do."

"I don't know how you can stand getting so close to the new kids," Johnny said.

"I don't know how not to." Bull set his flowers aside and lay down on the bank next to Johnny. "I ain't got it in me to be hardhearted, not when they're so young."

"Like me?" Johnny asked, and Bull could hear the smile in his voice even though he couldn't see nothing.

Bull took Johnny's hand in the dark and squeezed it lightly. "Yeah, you're just an iron-tailed son of a bitch," he said. "Always was one."

"You got that right."

They lay there a while, holding hands in the dark with the crushed grass smelling sweet around them. It was harvest time here, with the crops coming in regardless of the war, a sweet and bountiful country that someday soon would be free again.

"I made somethin' for you," Bull said. He sat up and Johnny followed. Bull took up his flowers again, and felt up Johnny's chest for his face. His hand lingered there for a moment, his thumb brushing Johnny's lips, his fingertips playing against his cheekbones. Johnny didn't kiss his hand, but he wet his lips against it.

Bull let go then and picked up the circlet of flowers and placed it on Johnny's head. It fell off the rim of his helmet and into his eye.

Johnny laughed, too loud for the silent night, and Bull shushed him with a finger to his lips.

Johnny kissed his finger and asked, "Am I just as pretty as a princess now?"

"You are," Bull said with conviction.

"You can't see nothing in the dark."

"That don't matter none," Bull told him.

"Christ, you are softhearted," Johnny said, but he didn't take the flowers off his helmet.


End file.
